


How it Started

by HesTheKingOfSomewhere



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Gay Chicken, M/M, Modern Era, Underage Drinking, Weed, its not actually smut, they never do the do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-07-17 11:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16094765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HesTheKingOfSomewhere/pseuds/HesTheKingOfSomewhere
Summary: Race and Albert had always been best friends, as close as two people could be. Playing games in Jack's basement, could they become something more?





	1. Chapter 1

Race and Albert had always been the best of friends. Their first meeting has been lost in the history books and so everyone just assumes they’ve been pals since they hopped out of their mothers wombs. They shared everything, not necessarily well, but what was Race’s was Albert’s and what was Albert’s was Race’s, whether they stole it or borrowed it. As they entered highschool their friendship expanded, Race made friends easily, and their duo quickly grew to include Jack Kelly, Romeo MacKenzie, David Jacobs, Spot Conlon, Specs Haskins, and Finch Cortez. Even within their sizable group, Albert and Race were still significantly closer to each other than anyone else. The first time Albert even felt he might have competition for Race’s attention was when Race got his first boyfriend, a nice boy named Elmer in their senior year of high school. Race doted on the boy, who was a year younger than them and “sweeter than apple pie” as Race would say. Race getting into a relationship rocked Albert’s world, at first he was worried it was because his best friend was dating a guy, they had never really talked about sexuality, and Albert was offended that Race never told him he was interested in men, but he was okay with it, Albert realised, after some introspection, it was Race after all. All that Albert really cared about was that his friend was happy and safe. Once Race was in a relationship, they spent a lot less time together, much to Albert’s dismay. Albert tried to hate Elmer, but it was impossible, that boy was an angel. It was clear that Race was trying his best to manage the two relationships, not wanting to neglect either his bestie or boyfriend, but also trying to avoid any uncomfortable third-wheel situations. The day that Race broke up with Elmer, the first place he went was Albert’s house. The news made Al sigh with relief, though he wasn’t sure why, and he almost felt guilty feeling good when his best friend was torn up. Jack came to the rescue, offering good times in the legendary location of his basement and the added bonus of his parents being gone, allowing for a night filled with drinking and games with all of their best friends.

 

The party started off normal enough, except perhaps marked by the absence of Elmer, who had attended the last few get-togethers. Race had his rum and coke, and was making an effort to look cheery, setting up bets with Finch over the games that were bound to be played that evening. Albert was lost in thought when Jack pushed a bottle into his hand.

“How’s he taking it?” Jack asked, settling into the couch next to Al. He took a sip of the drink Jack had given him and winced. It was too-sweet hard lemonade.

“Better now, this party was a good idea. Distract him, or else he’ll cry it out later.” There was a pause. “What’s the first game of the night?” Jack grinned.

“Mr. and Mrs.”

 

It was a rather simple game, two people back to back are asked questions, if they thought they were the answer, they drank. If neither of them drank, the rest of the group had to drink, if both took a sip, they were out and a new pair went up. Jack and David were the first pair to go.

“Who is taller.” Race asked with a smile. Jack glared at him and Davey took a sip of water.

“Who is more clever?” Romeo said, hoping to get both of them, instead neither drank and he sighed, before taking a swig of his own drink. It was Albert’s turn to ask.

“Who has the better sibling?” Both boys drank, eliciting cheers from the group. It was a good question, Jack thought the world of his adopted brother Crutchie, and David was ridiculously protective of his young brother Les. Finch grabbed Race’s arm and pulled him up to the centre of the circle.

“Who is more impulsive?” Specs asked, neither drank.

“Who has more teeth?” Everyone stared at Jack, who just smiled and shrugged.

“Who owns more flannel?” Finch drank, Race remained still.

“Who is smarter?” Race hesitantly took a sip, Finch just laughed.

“Who has a nicer ass?” David asked out of left field. It worked, both boys drank, before everyone burst out into laughter. Instead of sitting back down, Race shouted Albert’s name and motioned for him to stand. He followed with a sigh, standing against Race’s back.

“Who has more freckles?” Albert smiled and didn’t drink. They figured out the answer to that question when they were 10.

“Who has a bigger dick?” Albert drank while he heard Race cough.

“Who loves the other more?” Albert thought for a moment, and took a sip. He watched Romeo’s face as it turned into a smile.

“Get outta here!” Jack waved them down. Race had also taken a drink. They flopped down on the couch together, laughing about how much they truly cared about each other. Feeling rather buzzed, Albert rested his head on Race’s shoulder, who in response put his arm around him. The game continued, and Albert was not called up again, thankfully, he was too comfortable.

 

At some point he dozed off, still leaning against his best friend. He woke up to an empty basement, everyone disappeared. After a few seconds reorienting himself, Race returned holding a fresh glass of coke and an amused smile across his face.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” He teased. Albert scrounged for his phone and rubbed his eyes.

“What time is it?” He winced at the bright phone screen. “Jesus, only 11? Where’d everyone go?”

“Pizza. I asked them to bring me back a slice in exchange for staying with you.” Race explained. Albert nodded in response. They sat beside each other, for the first time in their lives experiencing an awkward silence.

“Wanna play a game?” Albert asked, grabbing his drink from where it had been left on the table beside him. It was still disgustingly sweet.

“Sure.” Race shrugged. “What did you have in mind?” Albert thought for a minute.

“How about a game of chicken?”

“Alright, so the goal is to make the other person pull away, right?”

“Yep.” Albert grinned. Race returned the smile.

“You’re going down.”

Race slid his hand onto Alberts knee and stared deeply into his eyes. His baby blues were clouded with intoxication. Al could feel his heart quicken, and he almost pulled back, but Al was determined not to lose. He wrapped his hand around the back of Race’s head. The hand on his knee started sliding it’s way up Albert’s thigh. Al moved his other hand to Race’s chest, trailing it over the lanky boy’s pecs and down to his stomach and waist. Race retaliated by grabbing the red head’s hips and pulling Albert onto his lap. Al grabbed Race’s shoulders to regain balance, and his competitiveness urged him to go in for the kiss. He slowly leaned in, gently tilting his head and closing his eyes, assuming it was his winning move. Albert did not expect Race to actually kiss him. It tasted like caramel and spice, evidence of the rum and coke Race had been drinking. Race found the taste of lemon and raspberry, from the hard lemonade’s Albert had had. The game did not end there. Albert slipped his tongue into Race’s mouth, not wanting the other boy to win. Race responded by sliding his hands to Albert’s ass. Instead of taking it as part of the game, a moan slipped out of Albert’s throat. The noise prompted Race to squeeze and pull the boy closer, providing oh-so-necessary pressure to both of them. Albert brought his hands to the blond’s collar and started working on the buttons, by the time he had reached the bottom, Race mirrored and slid his hands to the hem of Albert’s shirt. Al’s shirt did not come off gracefully, but it came off nonetheless. The break from making out gave Race the idea to start sucking marks into Albert’s neck. The feeling shot straight down Al’s back. Race was winning, and Albert couldn’t allow that. Al followed Race’s lead and started making hickeys down Race’s bare chest. He slipped off of his friends lap to kneel between Race’s legs. Albert paused at the top of Race’s jeans, sucking a particularly deep hickey on his hip bone. He gave the skin a nip, and heard Race swear in response. Albert could clearly see the hardness in the Race’s pants. He would have been alarmed if he wasn't equally as turned on. Albert looked up, watching Race’s face as he undid the button of Race’s jeans. He slowly unzip the pants, trying to gauge whether the other boy was okay with it. Race just watched with curiosity, almost as if he was daring Albert to continue. He did, tugging the jeans down, Race lifted his hips to help out. Albert took a moment to take in the view, a blushing Race stripped to his briefs, shirt undone, and very erect. Albert almost hesitated before pulling down Race’s underwear, releasing Race’s dick. Al had never sucked a dick before, but he was willing to try, especially for Race. He grabbed Race’s member at the base, and brought it to his lips. The door banged open.

“Honey! We’re ho- JESUS CHRIST!” Jack was standing in the doorway, covering his eyes with one hand and holding a box of pizza with the other. The boys could hear more voices descending the stairway.

“No, no, no, please, guys, stay upstairs. Race, put some fucking pants on. I never needed to see that and please… why…. in my house? on my couch…” Jack rubbed his face with the hand that was previously shielding his eyes. Albert and Race looked each other, trying to psychically come up with a good explanation for what they were doing, besides Al just sucking Race’s dick. The blond was the one to speak up.

“We were playing chicken.”


	2. More Than Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> UHhhh yall asked for a sequel.... here it is....

Albert figured that the only thing he could do was pretend that night never happened. Nothing had seemed to change on Race’s part, so Al thought he was supposed to be the same. They had been drinking and playing a game: it meant nothing. Maybe he was a little more hesitant to put his arm around Race or remind his best friend how much he cared, but in the end, it had just been a game, right?  _ Right _ ?

“Hey-yo Al, have you seen Race? The fucker owes me 20 bucks.” Jack slapped Albert’s back, nearly scaring the living daylights out of the redhead. 

“Nah, he wasn’t in chem, that kid could be anywhere.” Albert thought for a moment. “He’s probably smoking up with Romeo.”

“You need to keep better track of your boyfriend, one of these days he’s going to smoke himself into a cloud.” Jack continued down the hallway before Albert could correct him.  _ Is that what our friends think? _ Albert thought. The word “boyfriend” stirred his stomach. Albert wasn’t gay, and making out with his best friend for a game didn’t mean that they were dating. Sure, Race was an attractive fellow, but so was Jack, and Romeo, and David, and he didn’t want to date any of them.  _ Race was his best friend, that’s it, that’s all. _ Albert told himself.

Albert didn’t see Race until lunch later that day, and he was clearly stoned out of his mind. Both him and Romeo had clearly tried to disguise their state with body spray and eye drops, but there was only so much one could do. Romeo was feeling the full effects of the munchies and had stolen and eaten Specs' lunch in addition to his own. Race, on the other hand, had gone down the rabbit hole of paranoia. The kid could not sit still, and that was saying something when it came to someone as restless as Race. After about 5 minutes of intolerable silence at the lunch room, Race bolted out of his seat and walked out. The group stared at Albert expectantly, and Albert returned their stares. When Al’s eyes met Spot’s, the shorter boy narrowed his eyes and stood up, following Race out of the cafeteria. Everyone seemed rather disappointed in Albert but went back to their lunches. He wasn’t quite sure why they expected something out of him at that moment, but he figured it was better not to dwell on it. However, then Albert made the oh-so-fateful decision to look down to where Race had been sitting. A cracked iPhone stared back at him.  _ Race, you dumbass. _ Albert grabbed the phone and set out to find his stoned best friend.

Albert went to all of Race’s usual hiding spots: behind the equipment shed, under the bleachers, the men’s (and women’s) bathroom, the chem lab, even the stairwell that they used to hang out in ninth grade. Nothing, not a trace of Race. Walking through all their old hiding places gave Albert a warm feeling in his chest and a cold one replaced it every time he found it empty. After exhausting the library for hiding stoner, Albert resigned himself to return Race’s phone next period, if there was anything important Race needed from it, he shouldn’t have left it behind. Walking back through the halls, he noticed a door he’d never noticed before. Normally he’d keep going, but something was drawing him to it.  _ It’s probably locked anyway. _ He thought. Albert cautiously placed his hand on the doorknob and gave it a slight twist. It turned. Pleasantly surprised, he pushed the door open, hoping to finally find his missing friend. And he did, oh boy, he did.

The light from the hallway alerted Spot to Al’s presence, but Race sure didn’t notice. He was too busy making out with Spot’s neck. Albert and Spot made hard eye contact, Spot’s wide eyes combined with his panting made it seem he was like on one hell of a trip. To be fair, he sort of was: riding high on a drug called Race. Albert closed the door, trying to process what he just saw. Race on Spot’s lap. Spot’s shirt discarded over a mop bucket. Spot’s hands on Race’s ass. Albert stood there for several moments, a wave of unfamiliar emotions crashing into him. The door opened when the wheel of feels™ landed on tears rolling down Albert’s face. Part of him expected Race or Spot to come out and explain, but no such thing happened, and so Albert just started walking. It wasn’t until he closed his bedroom door that he realized he had left school. Sitting down on his bed, Albert realized he still had Race’s phone in his hand. There was nothing he could think of to do beyond sighing and collapsing in his bed.

He must’ve fallen asleep at some point because he was suddenly transported to mid-evening and a soft knocking on his door.

“Come in.” Albert’s voice did not sound like it belonged to him, and yet the words had come out of his mouth. The door opened and a blond head peeked through. Albert groaned.

“What do you want?” Al asked, staring up at the ceiling instead of looking at the guy that brought tears to his eyes for no apparent reason.

“I came to get my phone. Jack said you had it.” The sentence was punctuated with more pauses than any self-respecting author would include. Albert gestured to the phone still sitting in his slightly sweaty hand. Race took a few steps towards the bed but made no movement towards the phone itself.

“So how long have you and Spot been… a thing”

“We aren’t a thing, we’re… friends. He was comforting me. He’s good at handling me whenever I get like that”

“Ah yes, you looked very well handled.” Albert could hear malice in his voice that he knew he didn’t intend.

“I mean,” Race sighed, “I can’t say that that was the first time Spot and I ever…. “ Race didn’t finish the sentence.

“When was the first time?” Albert asked. He had thought their friendship held no secrets, but this was news to Al.

“Here, scooch.” Race gestured for Albert to make room on his bed and laid down beside him, hands folded over his chest. “Do you remember the party that Romeo and Specs first got together at?”

“Sure, freshman year? I think that was the same party that I had my first kiss.”

“Bingo. Sniper Wilson. You two spent the whole night together and we all thought 3 of our friends would be taken off of the market in one night.”

“What’s your point?” Albert looked at Race for the first time since he came in and was suddenly taken off guard by the gravity in his friend's handsome face. Albert could count on one hand how many times he’d seen Race look so serious, and one of those times was when they lost his little sister.

“Well, I spent that night with Spot, crying about how I was losing you and how I would be alone forever. So he made me feel less alone.” Race explained, voice cracking at the end. He cleared his throat

“Oh.” There was a long unpunctuated silence. “Why?”

“Jesus, Al, why do you think?”

Albert was at a loss for words. He didn’t want to say what he thought, in fact, he wasn’t entirely sure what he thought. Somewhere deep inside him, Albert knew what he wanted Race to say, but instead of being wrong, Albert continued to play dumb. 

“I don’t-”

“Do you love me?” Race interjected.

“Of course. We’ve been friends for too long not for me to love you.” Albert got a slap on the arm for his response.

“You know what I mean.” Race took a deep breath. “It’s totally fine if you don’t, I just need to know. After the chicken incident I thought we were something more than friends, and then you acted like nothing happened…. It hurt Al.”

“I…” Albert was at a loss for words. So, he grabbed Race’s hand and put it to his mouth. Albert then whispered the two words he was great at saying. “I’m sorry.” and sealed it with a kiss. Race looked over at Al with the biggest eyes he had ever seen. Albert replaced their hands by their sides. A beat passed.

“Does that mean..”

“We ain’t just friends, Race.” Albert smiled. A mischievous grin passed over Race’s face. He jumped on top of Albert, straddling him.

“Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Should I add on to this? like make a second chapter where they actually start dating or whatever?


End file.
